Holiday Happenings
Professor Kettleburn’s class of Gryffindor and Slytherin third years was a disgruntled bunch. The grounds were coated with three feet of freshly fallen snow, making it incredibly difficult to walk down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where the class was held. They had progressed on from Flobberworms to a creature even less interesting “ Caterfaeries. These creatures were faeries without the gift of flight, and were as hairy as the everyday caterpillar. The only difference was that they were roughly the size of a Flobberworm, without the slime factor. The reason for their disgruntlement “ the Caterfaeries escaped.
Normally if any of the disliked creatures ran, or crawled, to freedom, the class wouldn’t be devastated. However, Professor Kettleburn had made it his class’s mission to find the escapees and return them. The Gryffindors and Slytherins were crouching down on their knees, walking awkwardly around to find the creatures, who could conveniently camouflage themselves. The way to find them was to run a hand along the snowy surface to detect any hairy crawlers. Another downside was that if the Caterfaerie was rubbed the wrong way, the rubber gloves would rip open due to the unusually sharp hairs.
The students were grumbling miserably, their legs sore, their socks saturated with snow, and their hands freezing. Some students silently cursed Kettleburn and his undying love for all boring creatures. At any rate, each house should have been given fifty points automatically for putting up with this task. Kettleburn did assist, but very little. He stood by the empty crates and waited for his charges to return. Why had they not thought to escape like the stupid bugs?
“My hands are freezing!” Sirius snarled through chattering teeth.
“I can’t feel my face anymore,” James said, running a finger down his numb left cheek.
“I think my hands are bleeding,” Peter noted, looking down at the red snow below his hands.
“Mine too,” Remus said, holding up his own bleeding palms, which were visible through his torn gloves. “Bloody beasts are sharp.”
“You think Kettleburn would’ve told us these things can cut our hands open,” James remarked, handing Remus and Peter handkerchiefs for them to wrap around their bloody palms. “You two didn’t even catch those ones.”
“For slimy little things, they’re fast,” Remus said.
“The man’s mental, that’s all there is to it,” Sirius concluded.
The boys were broken out of their search by a high-pitched shriek. They looked up to see Lily Evans shouting for someone to get something out of her hair. A Caterfaerie had attached itself to her head and now matched the same shade of red as her hair. Snape was trying to get her to remain still long enough for him to pull it out, but Lily was hopping up and down in place, yanking at her hair in an attempt to get it out.
“Lily!” Snape shouted. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you grab at it like that.”
“Snivellus is right, Evans,” James said, leaping to his feet.
Sirius turned to James. “Snivellus?”
“It’s catchy.”
“Can’t argue there.”
Snape, or Snivellus as he was now called, managed to steady Lily long enough so he could pull the bug out of her hair. The Caterfaerie morphed instantly to the colour of Snape’s pale hand. Kettleburn, who had seen Lily’s panic, brought the box over for Snape to deposit the creature into. Kettleburn looked around at his disgruntled and cold students.
“I suppose we can call it a day. Get on back to the castle, warm up.”
The class could hardly resist cheering loudly and obnoxiously as they trekked through the snow back to the castle. As far as they were convinced, that lesson had been an entire waste of time. For them, it was good riddance to the Caterfaeries. None of them wanted to keep in touch, both literally and figuratively. The boys broke apart from the group after James gestured for them to do so.
“What’s up?” Sirius asked curiously, as he, Remus and Peter huddled around James.
“I was just thinking… d’you think Snape was involved with those students we saw?”
“I thought we were dropping this,” Remus said reproachfully.
“Come on, you can’t tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing.”
“Actually I wasn’t.”
“Think about it now, then!” He bent forward, lowering his voice. “He’s just the type of person to go around with that lot.”
“He’s only thirteen, James. I don’t think they want kids.”
“Who knows with scum like them?”
“Remus is right, James. Malfoy’s going to want some older people. I hear him talking when he comes round to my house. He doesn’t set much store by kids.”
“You’ve heard him talking about this stuff?” Peter asked dubiously.
“Not that, just kids in general. He doesn’t think anybody’s useful until they’re at least sixteen. Unless he knew them really well, he wouldn’t trust them until that age.”
Remus frowned. “Can we just not talk about this?”
James shook his head wildly. “You can’t deny there’s something going on.”
“I’m not denying it. It doesn’t involve us, so why are we getting so involved?”
James opened his mouth, no doubt prepared with another protest, but Sirius silenced him with a look. It was true that this did not involve them, yet it did. These people had proven they were capable of hexing a few kids, who was to say they wouldn’t do it again? Remus also had a point; it wasn’t any of their business what was going on. If they delved any deeper they would only find trouble they could not cope with, at least not yet. It was only a matter of time before it involved them, and everyone they cared about. Sirius, personally, wanted to face that trouble, whatever it was.
Needless to say, that was the last time Professor Kettleburn’s Care of Magical Creatures class saw the Caterfaeries. In fact, the following day the little worms managed to escape, this time to be lost forever. Kettleburn assumed that they had found a wolf or centaur in the forest and had been stomped on, or else eaten. The class did not even try to feign sorrow over the blow. They didn’t go as far as to cheer, but their glee was evident as they began to learn about unicorns. Unicorns weren’t actually on the third year syllabus, but Kettleburn felt bad about the torment he had put his class through and wanted to repent for it.
One night in early December James and Peter were sitting in the common room going over their Potions homework, while Sirius was serving detention and Remus was picking something up from Professor McGonagall’s office. Professor Slughorn had assigned them to research the properties of a Shrinking Solution. They all thought Slughorn was a wonderful teacher, but his essays were always killers, no matter what they were about. Peter’s nose was blotted with ink and his mind raced through everything he knew about the particular potion, while James bit the edge of his quill, spitting out the bits of feathers that caught in his teeth.
“I can’t think of anything else!” Peter shouted, slamming his quill down and glaring at the offending essay.
“You think I’m a fountain of information?” James questioned sardonically. Each of the boys still had two feet left to write.
The common room entrance opened and they were met with Remus’s voice, a welcomed distraction. “Oi! Help me, you two!” They looked up to see Remus struggling with a very large box. Curious about what he could possibly have, James and Peter leapt up to assist their friend.
“What the bloody hell is this?” James asked when they set it down on Remus’s bed in the dormitory.
“Sirius’s Christmas present,” Remus replied, pulling his shoes off. “I sent the money to my parents over the weekend and Dad went to pick it up.”
“I thought you said your dad could do something that’d disguise it?” Peter asked, peering at the box as if it might turn into a fuzzy bunny.
“He did.” Remus pulled out his wand and tapped the box five times and ran his wand along the centre. “Open it.”
Peter slit open the Spellotape and there was a large book entitled What to Do When Your Parents Are Gits rested in the packaging. He picked up the book and flipped open to the first chapter “ Help Me, My Parents Are Morons. “Looks like the perfect book for Sirius. Wouldn’t he get in trouble, though?”
Remus shook his head. “It changes every time you do the spell.” He pocketed his wand. “My dad said that once the spell is performed, you just have to do what I did. To turn it back into the phonograph you have to do the same thing backwards.”
“So can you turn it into that thing now?” James asked impatiently. He wanted to see exactly what they had paid for. He had seen one at Remus’s, but he thought that Sirius’s might look different.
“Of course.” Remus performed the motion, only backwards. The book shrunk and grew until it resembled Remus’s phonograph, except it had Sirius’s name in curvy writing on the needle. “You guys will have to keep it here.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the castle this year?” Peter asked. Remus had told them that he would be going home, once again, for the Christmas holidays. James, Sirius and Peter would be staying at the castle. Sirius couldn’t stand to go home again; Peter’s parents were going to a wedding in Germany, a wedding that Peter was not invited to. James’s house was being renovated and his parents didn’t want him to get in the way. Remus, on the other hand, thought it was best that he went home. It was going to be his family’s first Christmas without his grandparents. He knew his father was going to be upset. He had to be there.
“I’m sure. We’ll all spend the holidays here next year.”
Suddenly they heard a voice approaching the dormitory. “I hate her!” Sirius burst through the doorway, while James, Remus and Peter huddled around Remus’s bed, blocking the phonograph out of view. Sirius knew what his present was, but they did not want him to have an early look.
“Who do you hate?” James asked casually, as if they weren’t hiding anything.
“Professor Jankes.” Sirius practically spat the name, his face contorted in anger.
“Your Muggle Studies professor?” Peter was confused. Sirius had always given them the impression that he enjoyed Muggle Studies and liked the teacher. What had brought on this sudden change?
“Yes, the old bat.”
“What happened?”
“She has me alphabetizing her entire library, five hundred and fifty seven bloody books. Then she has me clean the whole classroom the Muggle way!”
“Well, she is the Muggle Studies professor,” Remus pointed out. Professor Jankes was probably just trying to show Sirius the trials of being Muggle.
“Doesn’t mean she has to make me act like one!”
“Get a grip, mate. It was you who hexed those books to follow Snivellus around,” James told his best friend.
“It’s not like any of them caused any damage to his head. They just dented it a bit.” He sighed exasperatedly and finally stopped to really look at his friends. They were standing together in a rather rehearsed away, and their smiles were strange. “What are you three hiding?”
“Nothing,” they said simultaneously, moving closer together.
“What’s on the bed?”
“My cloak,” Remus replied quickly.
“Then why are you hiding it?”
“Peter had an upset stomach, lost it on my cloak.”
Dubious, Sirius sniffed the air. “Doesn’t smell like he did.”
“Scourgify is really handy, isn’t it, Remus?”
“It is, James.”
Sirius observed Peter, who looked to be in perfect health. “He doesn’t look sick to me.”
“I’m a fast healer.”
“What are you three hiding?” Before they could do anything, Sirius had pushed past them. “My Christmas present?”
“Yes, you git!” the three yelled.
Sirius leaned forward to get a better look at it. “Hey, it has my name on it.”
“And soon it’ll have your face on it,” James added under his breath so only Peter and Remus could hear. “Honestly, Sirius, you couldn’t have waited a few more weeks?” he asked Sirius, loud and annoyed.
“I already knew what it was!” Sirius said defensively.
Neither boy said anything else; they knew it was pointless to argue with Sirius about something as important as his Christmas present. Instead, the three contented themselves with flinging every object that would not cause severe damage in his direction.
Christmas morning dawned early in the castle. Actually, there was no option as Sirius set his own mental alarm clock at seven sharp. James and Peter protested, knowing all the time that it was a futile attempt. When Sirius wanted to wake up, especially on Christmas morning, there was no way to make him go back to sleep. He had to have everyone up with him. James and Peter did manage to buy some time by pulling the hangings around their beds under the pretense of getting dressed, but actually trying to catch a few more winks of sleep. It was only after they took twenty minutes to get dressed that Sirius caught on.
Each boy had a pile of presents at the foot of their beds, waiting patiently to be unwrapped. Sirius ignored the pile and walked over to his phonograph, which had been unceremoniously left on the desk after the day it arrived. He went to put on a record. There was only one problem “ there was already one there. He stared at it, wondering where it could have come from. It was unlabeled, unlike all his other ones his friends had given him, and he could not remember placing it there. Shrugging, he put it on. Through a faint scratching sound, he could hear a familiar voice.
First off, don’t ask me how I did this because I’m not telling you because you are a git. Sirius rolled his eyes. Remus, of course… secondly, you’re a git. But I covered that already. Thirdly, next time we tell you that Peter lost it on my cloak, you should believe us because we’ll probably be telling the truth. Sirius rolled his eyes; he already had prior knowledge to his Christmas present, so why was Remus getting upset about it? And no one cares that you already knew about it, it’s the principle of the thing. Lastly, next year we’re getting you a sack of pocket lint. Just thought you’d like to know… Happy Christmas.
Sirius picked up the needle as his friend’s voice faded away and replaced the record in a vacant pocket he found, assuming that Remus had left it there for that purpose. He made his way back to his bed to unwrap the rest of his gifts. Once the three boys had opened, compared, and stowed away their presents, they dressed and headed down to the common room. There were only a few Gryffindors who remained behind. Cory Hamilton sat by the fire, reading a book. He stayed behind every year; the rumor around Gryffindor was that his parents didn’t want him to come home. Lily Evans sat on the couch, petting her cat, Slink.
The boys sat around the table, much to the disconcertment of Lily. However, instead of being rude to them, she forced herself to maintain a level of politeness. “Happy Christmas,” she said, letting her cat down.
“Happy Christmas,” the boys replied. Slink pranced over and sat down beside James, allowing him to scratch her behind the ears.
“You have a friendly cat, Evans,” he remarked. “Where’d she learn that?”
Lily laughed sarcastically. “Funny, Potter.”
“What are your parents doing for the holidays, Lily?” Peter asked, skilfully avoiding the fight that would inevitably follow. He was not the only person who did not wish to see James in makeup again.
“They’re going on a vacation to Sweden.”
Sirius looked confused. “And you’re not going with them? What about your sister?”
Lily appeared shocked that Sirius even knew she had a sister. “She’s staying with some friends. They wanted to have a private vacation.”
James huffed. “Privacy? Don’t parents know that’s impossible when they have kids?”
“My parents have two,” Sirius added. “Actually, I like that they can’t get privacy when me and Regulus are home.”
“I’m sure they love having you here then, mate,” Peter chided.
“They love when I’m here; they want their beloved Reggy home.”
Lily, who knew very little about Sirius’s home life, watched the exchange with mild interest. She couldn’t understand why Sirius would say something like that. Judging by the tone he used, she knew it was something she should not further question, particularly because she hadn’t been on real speaking terms with these boys since first year.
“Who else is here?” Peter asked. “Who stayed at the castle, I mean.”
“Reggy’s home,” Sirius chimed in as though he really cared.
“Severus Snape stayed,” Lily told them.
“Snivelly didn’t want to go home?” James asked, feigning a shocked expression. He didn’t seem to notice the glare that quickly ran across Lily’s face.
“No, he didn’t,” she replied coolly. “Xeno Lovegood stayed too.”
“He’s weird, that one,” Sirius commented.
“He’s interesting, at least,” Peter said fairly. The others couldn’t argue with this. Xeno Lovegood was eccentric, to say the least. He tended to believe in things that could not be proven to exist; there was never any evidence to suggest either way. His main belief was that there was a creature called the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. No one was quite sure where he had gotten the idea, or the name, but everyone was certain that this particular animal roamed no land. There was no use in trying to point this out to Xeno; he was set in his beliefs.
“Like I said, he’s weird,” Sirius insisted after Lily mentioned Xeno’s obsession with these creatures.
Lily frowned at this comment, but said nothing further. “The feast is going to start soon.”
Sirius jumped in his spot. “Food!” And he sped off towards the portrait hole.
James sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes at Lily. “You had to say that, didn’t you?” He shook his head. “Come on, Peter. Let’s go stop Sirius before the food’s gone. Evans.” He nodded at Lily.
He led Peter through the portrait hole, noting that Sirius had made good time. By the time they reached the Great Hall, Sirius was sitting comfortably at the one long table in the centre of the room, where the four house tables should have been. The table was empty, save for Sirius; the food had not yet appeared on the golden platters. Shaking their heads at the absurdity of their friend’s actions, Peter and James sat down on either side of him.
“The feast isn’t starting for a while, Sirius,” James said in a voice suggesting that he was speaking to a five-year-old.
“Lily said soon,” Sirius whined, playing the part of the little boy.
After another twenty minutes the professors began filing into the Great Hall. Some of them, such as the Muggle Studies teacher and Professor Kettleburn, looked shocked to see the boys already there. Others, like Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, looked as though they expected no less.
“Happy Christmas, boys,” Dumbledore said cheerfully, taking the vacant seat at the head of the table.
“Happy Christmas, Professor,” the boys replied in unison.
Not long after everyone settled at the table did Lily Evans appear with Severus Snape, in conversation about the notorious Caterfaeries. Professor Kettleburn grinned innocently, shifting in his seat. He had not forgotten his students’ intense dislike for the creatures and their overwhelming joy when their search for them was declared a failure. The red head and the Slytherin took the seats opposite the boys, not breaking their conversation except to eat whatever they put on their plates. Xeno Lovegood drifted in moments later, lost in a daze and looking as if he had walked in by mistake.
The boys spent their time pulling every cracker within reach, until their laps were barely visible through the pile of gifts they accumulated. James, who had found a purple wizard hat and had no use for it, offered it to Professor Dumbledore, who gratefully accepted. As the feast wore on the cheerful talk turned to more serious matters amongst the professors. They wouldn’t come right out and say what it was, noting the presence of the students, but it didn’t keep them from asking very vague questions.
“Did you get those papers, Samuel?” Professor McGonagall asked Professor Handlin as she was cutting a piece of turkey.
“Yes, he sent them to me last night, Minerva,” Handlin replied, fiddling with the Sneakoscope he found in one of the crackers. Professor McGonagall nodded, seemingly satisfied. Professor Dumbledore, his new purple hat perched on his head, leaned forward and said something quietly to the Transfiguration professor that the boys strained to hear. Unfortunately, they could catch nothing.
“Wonder what they’re talking about,” Sirius hissed to James and Peter, who shrugged in response. They were just as curious.
“That is not for you to hear, Mr. Black,” Professor McGonagall said curtly.
The boys soon got up to leave, followed almost instantly by Lily, Snape and Xeno. The boys were under the pretense of going back up to the common room, only so the professors would continue their conversation. When their fellow students passed by, they doubled back to the entryway to the Great Hall and hid just outside the doorway. Now that they supposed their students were gone, nothing was stopping the professors from talking freely.
“There was an attack,” Professor Dumbledore was saying gravely. “But it was kept out of the papers.”
“How did they manage that one, Albus?” Handlin asked, surprised. “The Prophet gets their hands on everything the Ministry misses.”
Dumbledore smiled ruefully. “I have friends in the newspaper business. Harry Lupin is quite skilled at making sure nothing is printed that I don’t want printed.”
“You want an attack on Muggles that was clearly done by wizards to go unnoticed?”
“Not yet,” Dumbledore replied. “The public will know, but we don’t want to cause such an alarm as of now.”
“What about last year when David Gordon was killed? Or Filius’s sister the year before? You told the students about that one.”
“Their professor was going to be missing, Samuel. They had the right to know why,” Professor McGonagall reminded him.
“As for David, the students were bound to wonder why Alice disappeared from school.”
“But this is so unlike you, Albus,” Handlin insisted. “You usually want people to know what is happening.”
“And they will know. When the time is right, the public will know what is happening. That is all I will say on the matter.”
It was clear that the conversation was over, so the boys retreated to Gryffindor Tower. None of the boys could deny it, they all agreed with Professor Handlin. It only made sense for the public to know if something was going wrong. It had been done before, so why not now? It was reported when Mr. Gordon died, and Professor Flitwick’s sister. Maybe Dumbledore didn’t want it advertised over the holidays? But that also seemed so unlike Dumbledore. Maybe the Headmaster was worried, though they found that so impossible. Nothing ever worried Dumbledore… unless what was happening was something that had never happened before. Something he didn’t know how to handle.